


AN OUNCE OF UNDERSTANDING

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: FWP, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Mech/Mech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ultra Magnus is unsure about this new commanding officer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AN OUNCE OF UNDERSTANDING

Minimus sighs and shifts in his seat.  He should have been resting as Ratchet had asked.  A small smile does tug at the small mech’s lips at that.  Ratchet does not ask.  He orders and expects you to listen.   _ He would even order Primus to sit the frag down.   _ Minimus pinches the bridge of his nose before swiping at his arms.  He felt what an organic would call naked without his outermost armor.  He was suppose to be in his quarters resting, but the way the other mechs on the Lost Light had looked at him without his armor.

“If Ratchet can’t fix the Magnus armor, how can I do my job.”  He hunches over into himself for the thirtieth time that cycle alone.  The looks of surprise had been expected, but it had been the way Rodimus had treated him like he was a crystal about to break that had driven him to his office.  His one place of sanctuary no one would willingly come.

Minimus is close to relaxing when his door slides aside.  He has to clamber up to stand in his chair to stare at the offender who had intruded on his safe place.  His gaze is fierce, but he pulls back surprised at what greets him.

A small version of Megatron smiles up at him.  The ex-warlord comes around the large desk to stand at the base of a chair large enough to comfortably hold a mech four times Minimus’ current size.  Megatron nods at his second in command before leaping up to make himself comfortable beside Minimus.  He doesn’t say a word as he makes himself comfortable behind the other small mech and pulls the larger small frame back against him.

Minimus begins to protest until he feels arms tightening around him, and a tiny engine rumbling in a purr.  The field that strokes his is full of confidence and strangely enough:  protective reassurance.  Minimus’ systems hiccup as he clings to the arms in front of him.  He lowers his helm.

“You are not less you know.  Just because they know you’re not just your outer armor.”  Megatron holds the other mech tighter until Minimus’ shaking stops.

“You,” there is a sliding click of a resetting vocalizer, “you should be on your duty shift.”

Megatron laughs.  “Don’t we have to go over all those messages you keep sending my way.  The ones that piled up under Rodimus’ command?”  Megatron shifts to sit next to Minimus.  He keeps one arm wrapped around the larger small mech.  “I swear the amount of paperwork you produce would give Soundwave spark containment failure.”

Minimus relaxes into the gentle arm, forgetting that he was not Ultra Magnus for a moment.  He was starting to think that if Ratchet could fix his armor or not he would still be okay either way.


End file.
